Long Zhao Feng wanted to say more, but when he saw Xiao Yue with her tear-streaked face, he shut up immediately. Instead, he walked over to sat next to Xiao Yue, who was still kneeling by the burnt-up funeral pyre. He mumbled a soft "Ah" when he saw what it was.
"My condolences," he offered.
"Thank you."
Xiao Yue expected Long Zhao Feng to ask whose death she was mourning, but the question never came up. Instead, Long Zhao Feng lifted his hand and patted Xiao Yue gently on the head. Xiao Yue frowned at him but did not stop him. Long Zhao Feng stayed with her for a long time, until Xiao Yue stopped crying, and the morning turned to noon.
They practiced some more swordsmanship after lunch. Xiao Yue's skills were as bad as ever, but other than his twitching mouth, Long Zhao Feng for once did not ridicule her.
